


Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned

by Kisleth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas is mildly insane, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Purgatory, Punishment, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, mental distress, subtle Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisleth/pseuds/Kisleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has finally gone too far and God has meted out the perfect punishment for the disobedient angel. Broken in body and mind, the Winchesters are frantically trying to return him back to the way he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ParkerStark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParkerStark/gifts).



“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” It echoes in the nearly empty room. It’s a mantra, repeated over and over, again and again. He can’t stop saying it. He can’t. He barely stops to eat or drink, his appetite gone. The pretty one visits often, trying to get him to sleep or eat or other human things, but he’s not. He doesn’t need them even if his aching head and gnawing stomach say otherwise. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
His fingers scratch at his arms, nails bitten rough snag on the patchwork of scabs covering his arms and he bleeds again. He can bleed for hours and not have to worry because he’s not human. Not completely. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” With shaking fingers he paints FORGIVE ME on some empty space on the walls. He always finds empty space. It’s like the walls absorb the blood over time. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
“ _Dammit Sam!_ ” That’s the pretty one yelling from the other room. His voice is so rough but it’s gentle and soothing when he’s in the room. It’s like cool water over a burn when he listens to him speak. “There has to be _something_ in those fuckin’ books of yours.”  
  
“I’m trying as hard as I _can,_ Dean.” The tall one replies. He has such old, sad eyes when he thinks the pretty one isn’t looking. They both do. “I can’t find anything about why Cas can’t leave the panic room.” Panic. It wells up in a part of him but he shoves it away. He’s safe in this room, he can feel it in the quiet.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He murmurs again. The panic room? What a funny name for such a nice room. It has symbols all over it, such nice, pretty symbols. He knows why they’re there. Part of him at least. The other part just keeps praying to God. Praying to be delivered like the good vessel he is. Praying and begging and begging and praying. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The nice symbols keep them alive.  
  
The nice symbols keep his sins from eating him alive from the inside out, just like the words “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He would tell them if he could, but he can’t. He can’t because “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He has wronged his Father over and over. He should never have taken over Heaven. Never became God. Never tried to replace his Father. Never... never left purgatory. But... the pretty one prayed to him, needed him. He couldn’t stop himself. The pretty one got him out just like he had gotten the pretty one out of Perdition.  
  
A deep sadness wells in his chest at the thought of the pretty one and he bites his lip hard to keep from crying. He curls up and wraps his arms around his knees and cries quietly into his arms. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He stops as his chest aches and aches and aches. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t pray, he doesn’t ask for forgiveness.  
  
 _Sleep..._  
  
He is writhing in pain. Screams wrench themselves from his throat and the heavy door is thrown open and the pretty one is back. “Cas! Cas, man, you gotta wake up!” His eyes snap open and he sobs “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The pain recedes. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The pretty one pulls back and his arms and hands, where they had been wrapped around him, are drenched in blood. Moss green eyes look sad, so sad, under tightly furrowed brows. “Cas...”  
  
Is that his name? No. It can’t be. He has no name. He is a nameless thing. He’s not an angel, nor is he human, he has no name. He’s nothing. He will stay nothing until he has won forgiveness. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The pretty one pulls off his flannel shirt and wipes at his hands.  
  
“Let me look at your back, Cas.” He’s not Cas though, but is the pretty one insists... He wears a hospital gown over scrub pants for this reason. The pretty one carefully unties the top—and if his voice is like cool water, his hands are the sweetest fire. Fire licks and tickles as it burns, but this burn doesn’t hurt. At least, not where it should. It hurts in his chest and he doesn’t really understand why.  
  
The pretty one tosses the gown away and he can see on the back is two large ovals stained with blood where wings once rested. His punishment. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He must beg and pray and pray and beg until he is forgiven. If he doesn’t he is punished again and again. It is not as bad as the First Punishment. His Father was ruthless, he moved slowly as he tore one wing and then the other out of his back. Just the wings. And so he sits there, not angel but not human. Not the Cas and not the Jimmy. He is a nothing made of both.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
“Well?” The tall one stands in the doorway.  
  
“Nothing. No trace.” The burning touch smooths over his back and he shivers. He can feel the blood covering his back smear but there is no catch of fingers against torn flesh. The tall one hands over another gown to wear and takes the soiled one away. The pretty one moves around to kneel in front of him. “We’re gonna fix this, Cas.” His hand wraps around the back of his neck and tugs him forward until his face is pressed into the pretty one’s shoulder. “I promise you, Castiel. Sammy and I are going to get your wings back.”  
  
“No.” He chokes out and it hurts him because he’s not allowed to say anything else but then he just did and blood seeps from his nose and his eyes burn and he closes them. The pretty one makes a distressed noise and he gives in. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The warm, warm, warm hands cup his face and wipe the blood that trickled down to his chin.  
  
“We are, Cas.” He is promising. He can tell that’s a promise. These two are known for their promises. The tall one comes back with a bucket of water, a sponge and a towel and then leaves. The pretty one slowly bathes his torso, removing the blood that is starting to itch. It’s not fair, the pretty one is so hurt by this and he can’t stop it. He can’t help it. “We’re going to fix you, Cas.” He wants to help.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He mutters almost petulantly. A stab of pain wracks his body as a warning. He has to mean it. _“Forgive me,_ Father, for I have sinned.” He begs as his eyes burn and he’s not sure why. The sponge keeps smoothing over his body, warm and then cool, warm and then cool. When the pretty one finishes, he towels him off. The towel is wrapped around his shoulders and neck and the pretty one pulls him in and kisses his forehead. His chest hurts so badly and something burns in two trails down his face.  
  
He closes his aching eyes.  
  
“I’m... going to fix you. I will.” That little break in his voice makes something click and for fleeting moments he is Cas and not the Jimmy and the Cas. He is Cas and the pretty one is Dean and Sam is elsewhere and he just needs to speak. He needs to warn them...  
  
“Wasting your time, Dean.” He whispers as his body shakes him hard. He jerks, pain searing through his abdomen and he wishes it were possible for him to die. He vomits blood over the both of them, “...I have sinned.”  
  
“Cas!” The pret—Dean—the pretty one shouts in shock. There’s so much blood and (he can see some chunks of flesh) between them. He can’t... his sins will tear him apart.  
  
He coughs and spits, ““Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
“Fuck, Cas, is that what happens if you try to...” Green eyes are so wide they look like they might pop out of his face. He’s seen so much blood, so much death, that it shouldn’t make affect him much but it does. He looks absolutely wrecked.  
  
He hurts so badly that he can’t even see, his vision white with black dots. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” It’s all he can do to nod slowly, miserably. Jimmy prays and begs and begs and prays. It doesn’t work, only “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
“Fuck.” The pretty one holds him close, not caring about the gore, and strokes over his back and kisses his temple. He makes sure not to cover his mouth so he can “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The ache is still in his chest but it’s so small now and he can breathe again and everything is getting better as long as he “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  
  
“I won’t give up, man.” Dea—the pretty one whispers to him while he repeats “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The warm, hot hands keep stroking over him. “I’ll never give up on you. I never have. Not gonna change that now.”  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He knows that, and he isn’t likely to forget any time soon.  
  
“I’m here, Cas.” The pr—Dean—pretty one says, not letting go in the slightest.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He responds, each repeat healing his internal wounds.  
  
“I won’t let you go without a fight.” A promise.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” An acknowledgement.  
  
“We...” his voice breaks.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” _Go on, Dean._  
  
“We have a more profound bond.”  
  
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” _We do._


End file.
